Every year around this time I get a little thrill. I start thinking about Valentine's Day and the wonderful things in store. Not candy or chocolate. No stuffed animals or diamond bracelets. No surprise trips or dozens of roses. Much better than that.
Every year, since the year of our first date, I have been on the receiving end of a home made valentine. Each one is different, each one unique, each one made of the detritus of our lives that particular year.
As we married and had children they have been included in the homemade happiness.
So now along with hearts that proclaim nurture, ardor, wife, and smitten, there are hearts that have scribbles, baby hand prints, mommy and happy faces drawn on them.
I treasure those valentines. I love pulling them out, reading the inscriptions on the back.
Some backs have short sentences declaring steadfastness and hope for the future and some backs have typed or hand written poems.
Here is the poem from 2007:
Wild Nights. Wild Nights.
Were I with thee,
Wild nights would be
Our luxury.
Futile the winds
To a heart in port, --
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden.
Ah. the sea.
Might I but moor
To-night in thee.
Emily Dickenson
Every year, since the year of our first date, I have been on the receiving end of a home made valentine. Each one is different, each one unique, each one made of the detritus of our lives that particular year.
As we married and had children they have been included in the homemade happiness.
So now along with hearts that proclaim nurture, ardor, wife, and smitten, there are hearts that have scribbles, baby hand prints, mommy and happy faces drawn on them.
I treasure those valentines. I love pulling them out, reading the inscriptions on the back.
Some backs have short sentences declaring steadfastness and hope for the future and some backs have typed or hand written poems.
Here is the poem from 2007:
Wild Nights. Wild Nights.
Were I with thee,
Wild nights would be
Our luxury.
Futile the winds
To a heart in port, --
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden.
Ah. the sea.
Might I but moor
To-night in thee.
Emily Dickenson
6 comments:
Well, that is just the most precious thing I've ever heard. What a lovely, lovely tradition you have started as a family! I'll have to stop by there and see all those darling homemade valentine's for myself!
I'm so jealous! What a creative and wonderful idea! I love the poem too. Ahhhh, that beautiful language.
I love this poem and I love your approach to Valentine's Day. The picture of the cards is great. I've never really cared much for this holiday or quite known what to do with it, but I am hereby inspired by what you are making it in your marriage and family.
I have exactly two minutes here but with Valentine's Day imminent, I contemplated choosing this poem for my choice. I love this poem. Ms. Em's imagery is so sensual. Thanks for your choice!
Oh Kris, of course your adorable family does this! Growing up, my mom wrapped a shoe box in pink paper. We all put valentines in for one another. It was both sappy and deeply meaningful. We carried this tradition through high school - which was important because we needed each other's love and assurances all the more in our teens.
Happy Valentine's Day sweet Livovich Family!
What a lovely tradition! Thanks for sharing the idea. My husband's b-day is on Valentine's day, so the romantic day has always gotten the shaft. With a little one, I'd like to stick a little Valentine's tradition in, too!
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